Under My Thumb (Serenade Series #1) (2 page)

Chapter Three

♬

Prudence Clearwater

When I reached my
seat, Gavin plopped down next to me. “Here’s your bag.” He placed it under the seat.

“Thanks…” I waited for him to leave.

“I’m excited to see LA. And we have so many gigs lined up.”

“Yeah…” I watched Desi come down the aisle.

“Get out of my seat, Gavin.” She dropped her purse, creating a loud thud against the ground.

“Sit next to Mason.” He turned back to me.

“I don’t think so.” Desi put her hands on her hips. “I’m sitting next to my best friend for eight hours, not Mason.”

I stayed out of the argument, not wanting to piss o
ff either of them.

Mason called from the back of the plane. “Dude, don’t make me sit next to Desi.”

“Hey!” Desi glared at him.

Gavin moved fr
om his seat hesitantly. “Fine. But I’m sitting next to Pru on the ride back.”

He had no idea how mistaken he was. Desi shoved him down the aisle then took her rightful place on my right. She sighed then pulled off her hoodie. “Boys…”

“Yeah…”

She pulled out her
Kindle and her iPod then placed them on her lap. “You know Gavin broke up with Brooke?”

“He did?” He’d been dating her for almost a year. But
I had a strong suspicion he wasn’t completely happy with her. All the times he was friendly toward me, I thought he was just being nice. But maybe he wasn’t…

Desi nudged my arm. “You know why, right?”

I felt my eyes widen. “No.”

She laughed. “He’s so into you.”

“But nothing’s going to happen,” I said automatically. “Did he tell you that?”

“He doesn’t need to tell me anything.” She turned on her i
Pod and scrolled through the playlist.

“You could be totally wrong.”

“Pru, I’m not.”

“I don’t see him like that.”

“I don’t blame you. He’s a good-looking guy, but he’s like our brother. But you can’t spend so much time together and not expect some sort of bond to form.”

“Well, of course. You guys are my extended family. I can’t deny that.
But it’s nothing romantic.”
              “You should talk to him before it gets out of hand.”

I was annoyed Gavin assumed anything would happen between us. We were great friends and had a lot of laughs, but I never hinted at
the possibility of a physical relationship with him. A part of me knew the attraction was going on, but the bigger part of me, the coward, just ignored it and hoped it would go away. Plus, he had a girlfriend. I thought that would discourage him from trying anything.

♫

When the plane landed in Los Angeles, the sweltering heat surprised me, even in May. The sun was bright and high in the sky. Capitol Records was beside the freeway, and the NBC Universal Comcast building was on the opposite side. And the traffic was not an exaggeration. After we got our rental car, we drove to the apartment on Lankershim Boulevard.

We splurged to get a nice place
. It was $2200 per month, but we wanted prime real estate. It was a ten minute drive from Hollywood, Universal Studios was right across the street, and Millennium Pictures was just down the road. You couldn’t ask for a better location. Plus, the building was nice. We had an underground garage and plenty of space. We were told the apartments were soundproof, which was a necessity for us.

Desi and I brought our limited suit
cases into the apartment. There were two bedrooms, a full kitchen, a ridiculously large bathroom, and a spacious living room. Our instruments took up the most space. I would have brought my piano if I could, but I had to settle on the keyboard, which wasn’t the same thing at all. The noise hurt my ears every time I played.

Gavin came to the door. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” Desi said. “It’s a good find.”

He nodded then locked his gaze with mine. “How about you?”

“It’s great.” I smiled then looked through one of my boxes.

He carried his belongings inside then placed them in the bedroom he’d share with Mason. I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping across the hall from him. But I was grateful Desi was there. She would be a good excuse in most situations.

Mason assembled his drum set with insane speed. Having to manage his own equipment at every show gave him plenty of practice. “We should decide on the lineup for the show tomorrow.”

I grabbed my bass then picked
at the strings. It was still in tune even after the flight. I grabbed my pink pick, the one my brother gave me for my birthday, then sat on the couch. “How about Lover’s Edge?”

“Definitely,” Gavin said. He pulled out his acoustic guitar. “Betrayal in the
Attic?”

“Yeah,” Mason said. “Tigress?”

Desi nodded. “And Ode to the Sun.”

Gavin strummed the strings while he looked at me. I felt
his heated stare. “How about Come What May?”

“But that’s just Pru on the piano,” Desi said.

“But it’s beautiful,” Gavin argued.

“We aren’t performing to a mellow audience. We’re supposed to get them hyped up
,” Desi said.

“Good point,” Mason said.

Gavin shrugged. “She could do it during intermission.”

“But then she doesn’t get a break,” Desi argued.

“I don’t like breaks anyway,” I said.

“Then do it if you want
.” Desi pulled out her tambourines and guitar.

Gavin winked at me. “It looks like we’re settled.”

“I guess so.” I watched my hands move across the strings even though I didn’t need to. I knew my instruments better than anything else. I just wanted to avoid the look Gavin gave me. The more I processed what Desi said, the more I realized she was dead on about Gavin. Now I just had to man-up and clear the air.

Chapter Four

♬

Cash Matthews

My driver dropped me off at the entrance to Loaded. It was a well-known bar on Hollywood
Boulevard. People strutted up and down the strip, their feet hitting the stars below their feet. Most were tourists and easy to spot. They usually had a large camera around their neck. I ignored them and walked inside.

The tables were crowded with people, and the bar was overflowing. Whoever this band was, they must be good.
That, or the happy hour was driving up the sales. I grabbed my drink and found Parker at a table. His arm was around his girlfriend’s shoulders. They’d been dating for a while, and he seemed happy with the arrangement. She was a model, skinny and superficial.

“Glad you could make it.” Parker clanked his beer against my
Bulleit neat. “Didn’t think you’d show up.”

“When have I ever stood you up?” I sipped my bourbon then returned it to the table. I eyed everyone in the bar, unimpressed by tonight’s talent. Most of the
women were too plain for me. They were pretty and good enough, but not quite what I wanted. My eyes were always searching for someone to entertain me, but I usually wasn’t successful. I was insanely picky.

After I finished my search, I turned to Lacy. “You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you.” She smiled back at me then drank her long island iced tea.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Parker warned.

“I’m always a gentleman.” That was only partially true.

The chair next to me was suddenly filled with a blonde woman. Her skin was fair and didn’t contrast against her bright locks at all. She had
the typical blue eyes of an LA model. With just one look, I could tell she was in the same business as me.

Parker introduced her
. “Cash, this is Cynthia. The woman I told you about.”

So he set me up anyway. That bastard. It wasn’t the woman’s fault, so I was polite to her. “It’s nice to meet you.” I extended my hand.

She shook it then smiled at me.

Lacy leaned across the table, her bright smile dazzling the room. “I told Cynthia about all your work at the studio. She was very impressed.”

Which is exactly why I hated blind dates. After they knew I was high up in the right places, of course they wanted to get to know me. It was the same story every time. Once they realized my worth, they abused it to get what they wanted. Not my cup of tea. “I can assure you, most of that was an exaggeration.”

Cynthia picked her nails while they rested on the table. She was clearly nervous around me. “I’m an actress.”

Of course you are.
“Have you been in anything I’d recognize?”

“I was an extra on 24.”

Of course you were.
“That’s wonderful. You have to start somewhere.”

“And end up somewhere else.” She moved closer to me then eyed my drink. “I like men who drink bourbon.”

Now she was just kissing my ass. She’d probably sleep with me to get a gig in the studio. That was a huge turn off for me. When I picked up my own girls, I was always somebody different, somebody that couldn’t be used. And I could remain unattached and unidentified. Which was why dating through mutual friends was no good.

Thankfully, the band came on stage and started the show. I was grateful our conversation would halt for the next hour.

The band was a group of two men and two women. A tall guy with arms the size of ancient trees moved to the drum set. He spun his sticks in the air then caught them without looking. I was impressed. This should be good. Then the guitarist came out with his acoustic. He looked average. Average height. Average looks. Unremarkable. Then a blonde girl appeared with a second guitar and a line of tambourines. She stood beside the piano and took a stance. When the next woman came out, I felt my knee suddenly shake. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and a smile that made my heart skip a beat. The rosy tint to her cheeks, her wide lips and perfect teeth immediately caught my attention. And kept it. She held a bass in her hand with the strap across her shoulder. I could tell she was in tune with her instrument just by the way she held it. When she walked across the stage, she had a grace to her. But she also looked slightly nervous. Her gaze was downturned, like she was out of her comfort zone. The bass she had was midnight blue, a very manly color. After she came closer, I admired her outfit. She wore tight leggings and a dark blue shirt, matching her instrument.

Something about her natural grace and beauty
drew me to her. There was a natural bounce to her step, like she was always excited. And she looked real. Not plastic. Not fake. She had real curves—gorgeous curves.

But my fascination was only a sliver of my true obses
sion. When the band started, her vocals made my spine shiver. Bumps formed on my arms despite the heat of the bar. Which was a first for me. A better voice I’d never heard. I was irritated she was a back-up vocalist. The ordinary looking guy was taking the lead with his guitar when she deserved the spotlight. That annoyed the hell out of me.

The music was catchy so I started to bop my head.

Cynthia shouted over the music. “They’re good, huh?”

I nodded but kept my eyes glued to my muse. My musician.

The band took an intermission, and I was devastated to see them go. My emotion and need surprised me most of all. I normally played it cool. Actually, I always played it cool. But my despair ended when I saw my girl take a seat at the grand piano. She took a deep breath then placed her hands on the keys. Once again, the hair on my arms prickled.

It was a slow ballad about love won and love lost. And it broke my heart. Her voice was perfect, hitting every note with the grace of a professional. This girl was too good to be playing in a small bar. Way too good.

When she sang, she closed her eyes most of the time. And after a certain point, I could tell she forgot about the audience. It was just her and the music. Nobody else. It was hot as hell. When she finished her piece, she stood up and bowed. I didn’t clap. But only because I was shocked by the noteworthy performance.

“Damn, that girl is good,”
Parker said.

“She doesn’t even need a band,” Lacy said.

I ignored them. I had to figure out how to talk to this girl.

When the band returned, I just stared at her. Her fetching smile and her
elegance with the bass was eye-catching. And I enjoyed sitting in the darkness, staring at her like a piece of artwork. I didn’t have to hide and act uninterested. I could be as blatant as I wanted.

After they played their last song, the
band walked off stage to a loud round of applause. There wasn’t a single person not clapping or whistling loudly. I was even tempted to buy a t-shirt. But I was definitely getting a CD. Her voice would help me sleep.

Cynthia turned to me. “That was a great show.”

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” I left the table and walked to the bartender. “What’s the name of this band?”

“The Quakes.”

I nodded. “What can you tell me about them?”

The second question annoyed her. “I have drinks to make.”

I pulled a hundred dollar bill out of my wallet. “Tell me everything you know.”

She eyed it then shoved it down her shirt. “They
’re from London. They haven’t been signed to a record company, but they are pretty good. They’re touring here for the summer.”

“What about the girl?”

“Which one?”

“The brunette.”

“Her name is Pru.”

“Pru?” I liked it.

She nodded.

“And what’s her story?”

The bartender looked at the impatient customers waiting for refills. “Be more specific.”

“Is she married? Have a boyfriend?”

“I have no idea. I just know information about the band.”

“Can I meet them?”

“Umm…I can try to arrange something. But I’m not allowed to leave my desk.” She gestured to the wooden bar.

“When and where is the
ir next gig?”

“I don’t know.”

I sighed in annoyance. “Then direct me to someone who does.”

The bartender waved a bouncer over. “Talk to him.”

“Can you get me backstage?” I asked the hulking guy.

He looked me over, judging my size. “And why would I do that?”

I pulled another hundred out of my wallet. “He’ll explain it to you.”

The bouncer shoved it into his pocket. “Follow me.”

I was immediately nervous. And I never got nervous about anything. I’d never put so much effort into a single girl before. I hadn’t even spoken to her and I was already obsessed with her.

When I moved backstage, I saw the guitarist I immediately despised. I didn’t want to talk to him. But everyone else was gone.

The bouncer tapped the guitarist on the shoulder. “You got a fan.” He walked out.

I sighed in annoyance.

“I’m Gavin. I’m glad you liked the show.” He extended his hand.

Being a dick to this guy wouldn’t get me closer to my goal. “You’re very talented. And I enjoyed it very much. I was wondering when your next show was.”

Gavin thought for a moment. “We’re playing at Good Times with Davey Wayne in a few days. It’s a 70s bar just a few blocks away.”

“Cool. I heard you guys are from London.”

“Yep.” His accent confirmed it.

“Have you been to LA before?”

“No. We plan to do some exploring while we’re here.”

“And what’s your first stop?”

“The girls want to see
Wicked
at Pantages on Thursday. So we got tickets for that.”

I nodded. That was something I could work with. “It’s a great performance. You’ll like it.”

“I’m sure.” He waited for me to walk away or ask another question.

I wanted to be discreet and not reveal my unusual obsession. “Can I meet the rest of the band?”

“Of course.” He stepped back then looked down the hallway. “We got a fan, guys.”

“Cool!” a girl shouted.

My heart fell when I didn’t recognize my muse. Two other members of the band came out, but my girl was nowhere to be seen. I complimented their performance and stalled as long as possible, until I was forced to ask for her.

“And how about your bassist?” I asked. “I enjoyed her solo performance.”

Gavin nodded. “She’s definitely the most talented member of this band. She writes most of our songs and music.”

That didn’t surprise me at all.

“I’d love to meet her.”

Gavin turned to the drummer. “Where did
Pru go?”

“I’m coming.” She emerged from the hallway then pulled her hair back. A drop fell from her chin, and her face was free of makeup. She just washed it off. I was more mesmerized than I was before
because she looked even more stunning without it.

She moved through her band
mates then reached me. Her long brown hair hung over one shoulder. The sudden smell of cherry blossoms flittered to my nose. “I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.” She finally landed her gaze on me. I could tell she liked what she saw.

“Hi…” She extended her hand.

I took it. “You have a lovely voice.”

Her cheeks tinted. “Thank you.”

She was humble. Even better. And that accent—damn “You’re an awesome bassist too. I was thoroughly impressed.”

She was embarrassed again. “Wow. Thank you.”

She was surprised by my praise, which made me like her even more. During our short interaction, I could totally read her. She wasn’t conceited, vain, or pompous. She was down-to-earth.

“And as a band, you’re
all amazing.” I realized I was only showering her with compliments, which was a little odd.

Everyone smiled then patted each other on the back.

I extended my hand to her again. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

She took it then squeezed firmly. Her wrist was so petite I could wrap my fingers completely around it. She was thin, but not too thin. And she had lean muscle in her forearms. When I touched her, I felt the sof
tness of her palms but the callus in her fingertips. I wanted to kiss each one, suck on them until they were raw.

Standing over
her, I got a close-up of her face. Perfection. Not a blemish, not a line, not a mark. Her lips were full and curved. When I stared at them, my thoughts turned sinister. She excited me immediately, which was hard to do. Like I said, I’m extremely picky.

Being an observer of audiences, I could read people fairly well. I could see her reaction to me. She was unnerved by my touch, anxious and excited at the same time. I had a strong hunch she was drawn to me like I was to her. And I sincerely hoped I was right. I finally dropped my hand, hating the severance.

Her arm fell to her side then moved into her hair automatically.

Yep. She was nervous.